


no one ever told me that grief feels so much like fear

by RedHoodie1723



Series: Jason Todd and The BatDad [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batman: A Death in the Family Fix-It, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce and Clark rescue him, Dick Grayson is Discowing, Fluff and Angst, He’s trying okay?, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, but its important to me that you know this, jason doesn’t die, this is never mentioned in the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHoodie1723/pseuds/RedHoodie1723
Summary: Bruce arrives in just enough time to save Robin, his son, from his demise. But who will save Bruce from his own fear?———Comfortember Day 1: Rescue
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Jason Todd and The BatDad [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1410994
Comments: 14
Kudos: 266
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	no one ever told me that grief feels so much like fear

**Author's Note:**

> For comfortember!!! I hope you guys enjoy!

Fifteen hours.

Jason has been in surgery for fifteen hours. Fifteen hours Bruce has spent terrified. Terrified that he was too late, that Jason wouldn’t make it. Terrified that Jason would make it, but then would hate him for letting the Joker get to him.

(But he would still be alive. That’s what mattered.)

Bruce hated being scared. Batman didn’t feel fear, he ignited fear in others. But he couldn’t feel further from Batman than he does right now.

Dick arrived around the 8 hour mark. He had cut his space mission with the Titans short to make it back. Right now he was talking in hushed tones to one of the doctors. Dick has been acting as a go-between for Bruce and the doctors, as Bruce hasn’t said a word since he arrived with Jason nearly a day ago.

Clark sat next to Bruce, not saying anything, but giving Bruce a worried glance every few minutes.

Bruce remembered finding Jason’s body among the wreckage of the warehouse, the blood coating his face and body, the bruises and burns, the unnatural angle his left leg was bent at, all pointing to a conclusion that Bruce couldn’t face. He had checked feverishly for a pulse, hoping, begging, to find something that would tell him his son was still alive. It was weak, but it was there.

Bruce had called for Clark, forgetting all about his lone wolf act for a minute because nothing mattered other than the fact his son was dying. He had flown them both to the Watchtower, calling in all the League’s best doctors after Bruce had gone numb and silent.

Bruce wanted to thank Clark, tell him how grateful he is for saving his son, but he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find the strength to speak up when Jason was still in critical condition.

He wanted to do something, anything, to help. But all Bruce could do is sit here and wait. Sit and wait to find out if his son was dead or alive. Bruce knew nothing about what was going on in the surgery room, like Schrödinger's damn cat, or like some form of torture

Dick made his way back over to where Bruce and Clark were sitting. He was carrying three cups of coffee, passing two to them before sitting to Bruce’s right. Bruce hummed in thanks, hoping Dick understood. 

He looked… tired. Bruce can’t imagine how it would be, immediately jumping from a space mission to finding out your little brother could be dying. It couldn’t be easy. Bruce looked at Dick, looked at his son, and wished he could tell him that it would be okay. That Jason would be fine, would be happy. But he couldn’t, all he could do is wrap an arm around his eldest and hope that was enough. Dick leaned into the contact, turning to bury his face into Bruce’s shoulder like he used to when he was young, before the fighting, and the arguments, and everything that tore them apart, like they weren’t once all the other had in the world.

Hours passed, Bruce’s eyes growing heavy, but he didn’t once waver. He wouldn’t miss anything. He couldn’t. Clark had returned to Metropolis, giving Bruce a swift kiss and a promise he’ll be back in the morning. Dick was lying stretched across multiple seats, his head resting in Bruce’s lap as he slept fitfully. Bruce carded his hand through Dick’s hair, thinking idly that it had grown since Bruce last saw him, as he waited for the doctors to return.

Senario after senario flashed through his mind, each one worse than the next. Bruce knew he was only tormenting himself, but with nothing to keep his mind occupied as he waited, he could only imagine all the possible outcomes. He wanted, needed, Jason to be okay. But Bruce saw him after the explosion, he saw his small broken form, and he knew he shouldn’t have his hopes up, that he was likely only setting himself up for worse pain. But hope was the only thing Bruce had right now, and he clung to it like a lifeline.

The doctor came back into the waiting room around 19 hours after Bruce first arrived with Jason and Clark.

She looked ragged and tired, but a small smile graced her face. Bruce couldn’t tell whether it was a good news smile or a pity smile.

Bruce sat up straighter, nudging Dick to wake him up as well.

“How- How is he?” Bruce croaked out. The doctor’s smile widened.

“He’s alive and stable,” She said. Bruce felt his whole body relax. He’s alive. His son is alive.

“And the damage?” Dick asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

The doctor pursed her lips at that question, her good mood dying slightly.

“Robin was in rough shape. A collapsed lung, his left leg broken, multiple lacerations, internal bleeding, severe concussion and head trauma. He is lucky to be alive.”

Bruce was only barely able to choke out his next words.

“Is he...going to be okay?”

“We’re not sure yet. His leg broke cleanly, so as long as he doesn’t mess with his cast, his leg will be fine. He’ll have scars from the cuts as well as the surgery to fix his internal problems, but nothing permanently damaging other than that. We are more concerned about the state of his head. Trauma like that is significant. The emotional and mental toll of his injuries are one thing, but he may have a TBI - that’s a traumatic brain injury - and we won’t even know the severity until we run some more tests. I do think it is quite likely, given the circumstances, but honestly TBIs are a very complicated issue. Even not considering the traumatic incident, and how that can change someone, a TBI can cause physical changes, as well as memory problems, personality shifts, anger issues, and more. They’re different for each person, and Robin is just a child - he is going to need your support a lot in the time to come.”

She paused for a second, looking Bruce in the eyes.

“I don’t want to scare you unnecessarily. And there is good news, I do think Robin will be okay. This is going to be a hard recovery though, and not a fast one.”

Bruce nodded.

“Even when he wakes, we want to keep him under our care for at least a few days to a few weeks, just to make sure there are no underlying conditions that arise.”

Bruce nodded numbly, vaguely aware of Dick thanking the doctor and dismissing her.

“This is my fault,” Bruce muttered. “This is all my fault.”

“Bruce, what-“

“Jason,” Bruce said, turning to look back at Dick. “I benched him, pushed him away. If I hadn’t done that, if I had been there for him, he wouldn’t have gone searching for his mother by himself. He would be fine, he would be happy. I did this to him, Jason is suffering because I failed as a father. I failed you before, and now I failed him too.”

Dick looked taken back, pausing for a second as he chose his words.

“Bruce, you know Jason wouldn’t blame you. He loves you.”

“And that is what makes this worse. He put his faith in me, and I let him down, I let him get hurt,” Bruce looked down at his hands. They were shaking, the black gloves of the Batman suit still stained with Jason’s blood.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened between you and Jason, I wasn’t there, but I do know that beating yourself up over this isn’t going to help Jason. I know what you do when you feel guilty, you pull away, but Jason needs you more than ever.

“He loves you, B. You’re his dad. Even if he was mad, I think he’ll forgive you. Just...be there for him, okay?” Dick’s eyes were covered by his domino (neither of them allowed to take their masks off when the civilian doctors were still on the tower), but Bruce knew the expression on his face, familiar from those years as Robin. Firm, but pleading. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, but he didn’t want to have to fight for it if he didn’t need to.

“Okay,” Bruce said quietly, before placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “And Dick?”

“Yeah?” He titled his head to the side slightly in question.

“You’re my son too,” Bruce said, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. Not to fix the arguments and the cracks in their relationship, not enough to fix all Bruce had done. But he hoped it would be enough to convey to Dick that he still loves him despite all of that.

Dick hesitated, before saying, “Yeah, I know.”

Bruce opened his arms and Dick sagged forward into his hold like a puppet with its strings cut. Dick tucked his head into the crook of Bruce’s neck, hand’s wrapped around him and gripping his cape. Bruce wrapped his own arms around Dick, holding him close.

“Are things going to be okay?” Dick asked, his voice small. It was easy to forget sometimes, that Dick was still 17. He commands the Titans with a maturity beyond his years, he is a hero in his own right. It makes Bruce forget that Dick’s still a kid, still his kid.

“I hope so,” Bruce said, pressing a light kiss to the crown of his head. He couldn’t lie to Dick, he had no idea if Jason would be okay, but he could still hope.

~~~~~~

The doctors let them in to see Jason a while after that. 

And it was a heartbreaking sight.

Jason was always small, smaller than even Dick when he was Robin, due to years of malnutrition. But seeing his tiny form, covered in bandages and hooked up to all these machines broke something in him.

Bruce felt the sob building in his chest and didn’t even bother suppressing it.

“Oh god,” Dick whispered.

Bruce stumbled into the chair next to Jason’s bed, unable to stand much longer.

His chest moved up and down, breathing steadily with assistance from the oxygen mask strapped to his face. He had bandages wrapped around his head, and one black eye. Jason’s hospital gown and bed sheets covered the rest of him, but Bruce had no doubt it was just as bad.

Dick made a little broken noise as he sat next to Bruce, reaching forward to hold Jason’s hand.

Bruce brushed back the hair out of Jason’s face and spoke, voice quiet and somber, “I’m so sorry, Jaylad.”

~~~~~~

Bruce fell asleep sometime after that, his exhaustion finally getting the better of him.

His sleep was fitful, plagued with nightmares of arriving too late to save Jason.

When Bruce woke, he woke to the sounds of hospital machines beeping and a hand carded through his hair.

Groggily, Bruce took a second to survey his surroundings. He was in Jason’s hospital room, laying on the couch in a way he knew his back would regret later, his head pillowed in someone’s lap. Clark.

He must have arrived back at the Watchtower while Bruce was asleep.

“Hey,” Clark greeted, noticing Bruce was awake.

Bruce hummed, keeping his eyes shut, not moving, imagining he could stay in Clark’s hold a little longer instead of facing the grim situation at hand.

But that wasn’t an option here.

Bruce sat up, Clark’s hand falling back to his side. He noticed Dick was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, asleep, his head resting against the mattress as he held Jason’s hand.

“How is he?” Bruce asked, voice still rough from sleep.

“Not much has changed since you last saw him, Jason hasn’t woken up yet,” Clark said, shifting to face Bruce properly. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” Clark asked, his voice all concerned.

“Jason almost died and you’re asking if I’m okay? I think you’re concerned about the wrong person,” Bruce said incredulously. Clark sighed.

“Yes, Bruce, I am asking if you are okay. Specifically because Jason almost died. I know how much he means to you, Bruce, this can’t be easy for you.”

Clark was right. This wasn’t easy. Knowing he pushed Jason away when he needed Bruce the most. Knowing that resulted in Jason almost dying. His son, the light of his life, almost died because Bruce was incapable of being there for Jason.

Fear, guilt, grief, all these emotions warred inside of Bruce and he didn’t know how to deal with them. For years he would have just shut them down instead of facing them, but that would be the last thing Jason needed. He just went through something traumatic, and Bruce has pushed him away too many times to not be there for him now.

“So I’m going to ask you again, are you okay?”

“No,” Bruce conceded. “I’m scared, Clark. What if- what if he doesn’t remember anything? What if he doesn’t wake up? What if he hates me? I don’t know what’s going to happen to him, if he is going to be okay.

“I’m always in control, Clark. I know anything and everything about any situation I’m in. That is my thing, that’s what I do. But now, when it matters most, I’m lost and I’m scared and I hate it.”

“And that’s okay, it’s okay to be scared. It’s a scary situation, but just know, I’m here for you, and if you ever need anything, to talk to me, or just me being there-“

“I know,” Bruce said, leaning to rest his head on Clark’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I do, you saved Jason, you’re saving me. Clark, I have so much to thank you for.”

“Yeah, well, the things you do when you love someone, right?” Clark smiles at him, soft and so full of trust and adoration, and Bruce felt his heart melt right there.

“I love you too,” He said, pressing a caste kiss to Clark’s lips. Bruce stayed like that for a second, relaxing in Clark’s hold, before he pulled back.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“I hope you’re right.”

~~~~~~

Jason woke up three days later. 

Bruce was sitting by his bedside, making a failed attempt at working on Wayne Enterprise paperwork, his mind too far focused on Jason for anything else. Dick was sitting on Jason’s other side, typing on his phone, no doubt texting the Titans. Clark had left to return to work earlier that day. 

The first thing that clued Bruce into Jason’s awakening was the monitors. The heartbeat monitor slowly picks up from a sleeping pace to an active one. 

Jason started moving after that, a low groan of pain escaping. Bruce quickly moved to up the morphine dosage a little, following the Doctor’s instructions on what to do if Jason woke up in pain. The effect was almost immediate, Jason relaxing.

“Can you hear me, Little Wing?” Dick asked softly.

Jason just made a half-hum, half-groan.

“Jaylad-“ Bruce started, unsure of where he was heading with that sentence, unsure of what he wanted to hear in response.

Jason croaked, clearly trying to speak, but his words were too quiet and mumbled for Bruce to make out.

“Jay?” He tried again.

“Dad?” Jason asked, his eyes still close but turning his head in the direction of Bruce’s face. 

Bruce sucked in a breath. Jason’s only called Bruce ‘Dad’ once before, during an incident with Crane’s fear toxin. He didn’t know whether Jason’s use of that word was a good or bad thing.

“It’s me, Bruce.”

“Dad,” Jason said more firmly, a small smile on his face. Bruce felt his heart swell as he reached forward to push the hair out of Jason’s face, before cupping his cheek and leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, Jay, I’m here.”


End file.
